MY heart was heavy, for its trust had been Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; So, turning gloomily from my fellowmen, One summer Sabbath day I strolled among The green mounds of the village burial-place; Where, pondering how all human love and hate Find one sad level; and how, soon or late, Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face, And cold hands folded over a still heart, Pass the green threshold of our common grave, Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart, Awed for myself, and pitying my race, Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave, Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TELL'S BIRTHPLACE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE WITHOUT CEREMONY by THOMAS HARDY THE SLAVE AUCTION by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP by ROBERT SOUTHWELL THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE WORLD'S TRIUMPHS by MATTHEW ARNOLD BOOKS FOR THE PEOPLE by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE COOK'S PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |